Of Lily Still 10x100x17
by theblackinkwitch
Summary: Once upon a time there was a girl with a curl in the middle of her forehead. When she was good she was very, very good but when she was bad she was better! Lily Evans on love, life, death and everything in between.
1. Lily Loved James, She Really Did

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Lily Evans loved James Potter, she really did. But it was Sirius Black who really got under her skin, lodged somewhere deep and stayed. James, James and then Harry filled the whole of her heart, but Sirius seemed to be everywhere else. Idly, she'd wonder if James had her heart and Sirius her soul.

Lily Evans kissed Sirius Black after he confessed to sending Severus down to the Shrieking Shack in the full moon. And he cried and cried and she broke a little inside and idly, she thought that if James has her heart, then Sirius has her soul.

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When she was little, Lily loved her mothers laugh. It was rare to hear and rarer to cause, creeping out in a breathy whistle and giggle and then a full blown peal of throaty laughter. Lily could've listened to it for hours.

When she was little, she'd pull faces till her mother laughed unfailingly. She was five when her mother looked away and held her close and cried. Her father was dead and her mothers laugh died, and the ghost of it rang in Lily's ears till she clapped her hands over them, unable to bear that once magical sound.

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The first time he told her he loved her, he was hot and panting from the sex and she was sore and hurting. He'd looked right into her eyes and it somehow seemed a payment for a gift she'd given so freely. It felt wrong and she closed her eyes, breathed deep. Told him to say it like he meant it and not as a reward for her body and as she looked at him she realised the difference. He said it believing he meant it and James said it simply knowing. And now, just now, she knew it too.

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At three am on the ninth of July, Lily sat cross legged in an open window and lit a single white candle. She watched the red and yellow flame flicker and dance in shadows on the wall. She watched it slowly melt and thought of the once loved as the wax spilled over. She thought of tears and of venom as droplets hit her wrist and she bit her lip at the sting. She watched and she cried in silence, tears that burned like the flame; swiped them away and snuffed the light. She faced the night.

"_Happy Birthday 'Tunia."_

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Sometimes she had days where she couldn't bear the thought of getting out of bed. Days when the dead and the dying, those she loved and those she loathed, those she'd killed and seen killed pressed so heavy against her that she could barely breathe; would wake with a strangled gasp, her chest tight. And she'd lie wide awake next to him, listen to the steady thrum of his heart, the rise and fall of his breath and he'd pull her close, kiss her hair and tell her it was alright to cry, love, it made you do that sometimes.

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She was nineteen and listening to the wireless when it came crackling through the speakers.

"James, it's our song!"

And she took his hand and they danced outside in the snow as the sun beat down upon them; hot and bright and wild. And he sang.

'_I say love, it is a flower, and you it's only seed.'_

And she stopped dancing in the snow, and looked, really looked, as the sun hit his face.

"I love you. I'll love you forever, you know that don't you?"

And he hadn't, but he did and smiled and wordlessly, they walked inside.

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He was seventeen and gripped her hand so hard it was turning purple, and the pain etched on his face nearly killed her.

"I don't think you know quite how much I love you Lily, how long I've spent loving you. I was fourteen when I began to suspect and fifteen when I first thought it and sixteen when I knew for certain. I love you. I'll love you forever, you know that don't you?"

And his dark eyes burned into hers; her vision blurred as her tears spilled over and she pressed her lips to his palm. "I know."

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In her last year at Hogwarts, Lily would sneak out of bed in the middle of the night, creep silently out of the tower and race as fast as she dared to the very top of the north tower, take off all her clothes, and launch herself off the edge.

She'd give herself over to the rush that filled her so completely, her mind blank and empty of everything but the joy of being utterly free. She'd land in the icy waters of the lake, float until her body was numb, alone for almost sixty flights- then Remus came too.

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Lily loved the element of surprise. She loved the look on a face, the whole spectrum of emotions from shock to disbelief to anger if it was of the bad kind, to pleasure and delight if it was the good. She loved to give, to receive and especially loved to be the surprise. But as she held her son in her arms; and looked into Dumbledore's bright blue eyes, she fought the urge to laugh. Once a rat, always a rat and they all should've noticed except there was a war; they were friends! Lily really fucking hated this one.

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She once read a book about a man who was so in love with a girl that he went mad when she died; as mad as she'd been after he left her and forever after she couldn't shake the notion that love was madness- a madness that seeped into your bones, right down to your soul, making your blood burn and your head spin and your heart break, a thousand little deaths when he said 'dad' instead of 'mum' and she turned her back and he smiled as he kissed you, and it was all there was in the world.

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***This story was inspired by many things and people: T S Eliot, 'The Rose' by Bette Midler, Bob Dylan and Janis Joplin; and the gems written by Lady Bracknell, Wingless Flight and Cupid Painted Blind among others...and my own Sirius, who taught me to beware.**

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	2. I Wish I Wasn't A Witch

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"I wish- I wish...I wish I wasn't a witch!" Lily cried, twin spots of colour rising in her cheeks. Defiantly, she raised her eyes to meet his, and almost laughed at the expression of abject shock that was stamped across his face.

"I mean... I was alright before. Not the best, but I was getting by just fine. And now-now I've lost-"

He stopped her with his hand over her mouth.

"You may have lost her, but you've won Lily, you've won! You'll be a witch Lily- you're brilliant you know-and she'll always be Muggle!"

"I want that back, Sev."

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'Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight, wish I may, wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight.'

It's Lily. Lily Evans of Brixton, London. If you're not a star or not the first star I saw tonight please pass this onto the first star I have seen or will see tonight. Please, let James come home tonight. Please! If he does, I'll tell him about the baby, I swear it! And we'll get married if he really wants and I'll move to the country and I'll even stop running away-truly! I just...I can't make it without him anymore..."

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She's spread-eagled on the grass, cigarette glowing red in the darkness, watching as the smoke curls up and cradles the moon. She watches and smokes and she tries not to think treacherous thoughts about the baby growing inside of her. No, not a baby- a possibility of one. And the moon looks down on her and she's on her knees as her throat closes and the tears fall and she howls, feeling infinitely older than ever before. And she wraps her arms around herself as if to somehow keep it coming out- if she only holds tighter and wishes harder.

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And sometimes she wished she'd never met any of them. Not Sirius, who she'd let affect her for years. Not Remus who she loved to simply be with, who shared her love of sixties and seventies vinyl; who understood what Janis Joplin meant when she sang about the blues. Not Peter, who reminded her of her younger self, always too eager to please and too easily, irrevocably, wounded. Not even James, who'd loved her since he was fifteen, who she loved with everything she had (that wasn't otherwise occupied) and fell in love with all over, time and time again.

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She looks over at James in the greenhouse, hands buried in the soil as he gently cradles a mandrake before re-potting; and wishes they lived different lives. Here, he's James Potter!; Seeker-extraordinaire; Marauding Prankster; Epitome of Cool and Pureblood Poster Boy. Although she knows both the communal boy and burgeoning man, loves both, she thinks it might be nice to be free from schoolyard hierarchy. She thinks it might be nice if he was hers alone. And although she knows it's selfish she sometimes wishes he could be the clueless Muggle boy swept off his feet by the brilliant witch.

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Lily loved the idea of diamonds. She loves the sparkle and the fire and the eternal shine. Loves that they're forever. She wishes she could avoid marriage altogether and wear a diamond on her fourth finger regardless. Thinks of calling her son, if she ever has one, Adam; after Adamas, the Greek origin of diamond, meaning indestructible. She used to think diamonds were made when stars exploded and died; were the fire that was left behind. And then Petunia laughingly told her it was pressure and chemistry coming together deep down in the earth. Secretly, she's holding out for fire.

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Her mother takes the picture as she blows out the candles- five at last!

She gets them in one breath, beaming at her friends and family around the table. They clap and tell her to make a wish; so she scrunches her nose in concentration and finally one pops into her head.

Excited, she bursts out "I hope I get to go to Tunies school when I'm ten; and that Mummy, Daddy, Tunie and me live happily ever after!"

Her wish never came true- her father died three months later; and she never ever uttered a wish aloud after that.

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She thought about all the wishing she'd done until now. The desiring, craving, aspiring and yearning she'd been filled with for months. The hope and trepidation and the elation as she stood on the dais with the other candidates as Dippet spoke about their qualities in turn.

Breath bated as he announced "Without further ado, I offer my congratulations to our newest Head Girl...Lily Evans!"

She breathed a desperate gasp of oxygen; a giant grin spreading across her face as the blood rushed to her cheeks and she stepped forward; letting him pin the shiny gold badge above her heart.

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She paused, chewing the end of the quill, reading what she'd written.

'Dear Padfoot...We had a very quiet birthday tea, just us and old Bathilda, who has always been sweet to us and who dotes on Harry.' She continued writing.

'I wish you were here.' And stopped abruptly.

She stared at the seemingly innocuous sentence, furious with herself. Scratching it out viciously, she ignored the black stain on the parchment, and began to write again. 'We were so sorry you couldn't come, but the Order's got to come first and Harry's not old enough to know it's his birthday anyway!'

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She's made the best of all of them. She's made bad and good; selfish and selfless. And yet, she reflects, despite of repeated warnings to be careful what she wishes (for it may come true); despite everything that's happened, or perhaps because of it, she never gave up hoping, and dreaming, and wishing. And it suddenly dawns that she wouldn't change it for anything. She's wound up with things she's wished fervently for, some she didn't and some she hadn't even imagined. And so, voicing one last wish for her son: 'I hope you desire and dream and wish forever.'

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***Note:** Everything is mine except the characters, starlight rhyme and of course, the first and last parts of Lily's letter to Sirius. Reviews/concrit would be much appreciated! Oh, and Lady Bracknell if you're reading, I'm pretty positive you began the much touted Remus Lupin/Janis Joplin craze that's hit fics of late ;D

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	3. Lily Was The Embodiment Of Fire

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Lily was the embodiment of fire, from her dark red hair, to her fiery eyes and blazing personality. If you asked Sirius he might've said she was hot like fire. Remus might've said something about her appetite for destruction- towards herself and others. Peter probably would've said that when he saw fire he ran or got reinforcements. But James would've said that it was one of the most beautiful and deadly forces on earth, wild and unpredictable and intense, and did you know that fire actually creates its own weather? He'd seen it in action and he'd fallen in love.

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On his sixteenth birthday, Sirius was wide awake next to Lily. She knew it like she knew herself and found his hand among the tangled sheets. In the moonlight she shone like a pagan goddess as she straddled him, felt him slide inside her and cradled his face in her hands.

"Fuck me, Siri." She begged, as a tiny smile flickered over his lips, and he deftly slid her leg to his waist, pinning her beneath him. "Say it again."

He sucked her earlobe as she shivered and breathed. "Please, Siri."

And he did, and their sex was on fire.

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She'd been trapped inside a burning building once. She was nine, and her best friend Jude had double dared her to explore Mr Manson's 'House of Horror'; as the local kids called it. Rumour stated Manson had torched himself in his bed one night and the house had been abandoned ever since. She never refused a dare and went into his room alone, touched the scorch marks behind the door; and they'd burst into flame beneath her hand. She fainted from smoke inhalation and they'd only just pulled her out in time. She still has the scars on her palm.

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After she almost died, she became obsessed. She followed arsonists trials voraciously, devoured news reports with wide-eyed rapaciousness and papered her walls with pictures. She found an old lighter of her fathers and would lie in bed clicking the flame again and again and again. And when she met Severus, on the third day, she'd made him wait outside while she grabbed a jacket; and he stood in the threshold of her room and simply stared. For her birthday the next week, he gave her a poster of the ocean. And slowly, she made her way out of the fire.

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And then she was back into the frying pan. She met James Potter on the train, and sparks flew. And she and Sirius hated one another instantly in the effortless way only children can. She told him he was the most revolting git she'd ever met; even though she secretly thought he had the prettiest eyes she'd ever seen in a boy. And he knew it too. She hated James for similar reasons. He was smart, and a pureblood wizard, supremely self confident; and refused to take anything seriously.

And she envied his easy freedom, and his peace of mind.

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They're sixteen, huddled round the common room fire when James gets the news. His father is ill, with what no-one quite knows, but it's critical. Lily meets his eyes across the circle, wide and wet and shining, and something inside her cracks just a little. And she has this insane urge to hold him, tell him it will all be okay, before Sirius descends like a whirlwind and spirits him away. It's only later, when she's still wide awake in her bed, that Lily realises her hand had already started to reach out to him, seemingly of its own accord.

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James turns seventeen and there's a bonfire in the woods. Someone's strung lanterns through the trees, and laid out tiny cakes and wine flasks. It reminds Lily of childhood tales of faerie queens and faraway trees. She's on her third cup of plum mead that Sirius spiked; the music and the magic electrifying her body like a live wire and she's barefoot and dancing like a gypsy. James is suddenly in front of her, and she's holding his hands as they're twirling madly and he looks so happy she wants to keep it that way forever—so she kisses him.

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Later on, Lily will ask him why he never gave up on her. He stops tracing circles on her hip, and looks up; surprised she doesn't know the answer.

"Third year. Remus masterminded our prank- a school wide charm that would set fire to the pants of all the people that were telling lies. So Sirius and I went round asking people all sorts of embarrassing questions. And when I asked you if there was any chance at all that you'd like me, you said never-"

"And my pants were on fire!"

"It was worth every bruise you gave me."

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James was the first to join the Order; in Auror instruction when Fabian Prewett recruited him. Lily was adamant that she'd finish training as a Healer before she signed up to willingly kill people. She had a month left when they bought in a six month old Muggle baby, covered in burns. Death Eaters had tied the boy and his father to a stake, and raped his mother as they were set alight. Healers couldn't save him. Lily watched his mother howl and wondered when they would start going after muggleborn children. She took the oath the very next morning.

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There's war in her head and war in her heart and she feels that everything she was and had once known is falling apart. It's cold out, but she's desperate for sun rise, to see the light that she's so fervently fighting for. The dark seems omnipresent and she wonders when this war will be won and leave them be. They're all tired, tired of failing, fighting, dying. Eyes closed, she faces the horizon. Her eyes open into the blinding light as the sun sets the sky on fire and she can't remember a time she felt so intensely alive.

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*Please review! Just click that tiny little button to make my day! (and win your very own Marauder cabana boy :D) Oh, and the 'sex on fire' part came from the very lovely Kings of Leon song 'Sex on Fire'!


	4. Hey Bright Eyes

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Hey bright eyes. It's his standard greeting as he sprawls out beside her. The afternoon slowly falls to evening and the quiet settles around them like a blanket. She was meant to reply, answer it in kind; instead she tells him this is wrong, they have to stop, move on. This can't go on anymore; sooner or later they're going to get caught and then what? He sighs, tells her that she's right, and she makes the mistake of meeting those thunder cloud eyes. And then she's gone, resolve lost, all her good intentions vanquished and swallowed up in smoke.

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Lily was always a bright baby, a bright girl, a bright teenager, a bright lady. A bright witch with a bright future…and a baby. At seventeen. She tries to breathe and vomits into the sink. She washes her mouth, grips the sides as her head spins. She begins to count aloud, gets to ten, starts again. At last, the roaring in her mind seems to quiet, and she stands, back straight, motionless in the mirror as a plan painstakingly takes shape. Saturday, she will fix it, and until then she will desperately ignore her inevitable thoughts of

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James, or Sirius?

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It's the summer holidays and they're staying with Remus. Lily's hot and sticky and desperate for a cold bath. She slides into the water and sinks below the surface, cool and soft and silent. When she opens her eyes, there's someone undressing by the door. She shoots up out of the bath with a gasp and sees its Remus, about to shower. She wraps her towel around her and laughingly kisses his cheek, tells him to enjoy himself. When he comes to dinner, the bright rush of blood to his cheeks is the only outward sign that maybe he did.

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Later on, she imagines wrapping herself around him in the bathroom, wet and naked. Imagines kissing him, helping him out of the rest of his clothes, imagines fucking him in the shower, or in the bath—her fantasy bright and vivid. She closes her eyes, pictures James instead, berates her disloyal mind, her unfaithful body. She's already had one best friend and she refuses to ruin the other. James would never forgive her, and Remus would never forgive himself. She and Sirius, on the other hand, forgive most things. They don't have much choice, when you really think about it.

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It's their first anniversary, and they're eighteen. James made a picnic, spread out around them on a red blanket. The dusk is deepening and he kisses her, tells her she'll love this even more in a second and covers her eyes. When he lets her open them, its dark and they are surrounded by hundreds of fireflies, lit up bright against the night sky. Between the fireflies and the stars, Lily feels like they're floating in space. She's giddy from the sensation and the champagne, and holding tight to James's hand, feels aeons away from all that's earthly and mundane.

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Its Peter's birthday and they're all rather drunk. Lily wonders if he's having fun and hopes Sirius is behaving himself and leaving Peter alone. Wishful thinking, she realises as she spots the two of them in a corner, Sirius with an arm around Pete's shoulder, laughing hysterically, utterly oblivious to his crestfallen face. Not for the first time, she thinks how awful it must be for Peter, always behind the others. He's not as bright as James, as bold as Sirius or as clever as Remus. She sees him watching her, wonders what he's thinking as he turns and flees.

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She wakes in the night, gasping for breath, that same dream back again. A black haired baby, eyes bright grey; crawling on the ceiling like in that awful movie, deathly pale and wailing. James stirs beside her, but doesn't wake, thank Merlin. She doesn't want him to worry as usual, when she's woken him with her panicked cries in the night. She can't stand telling him the same lie over again, pretending that she can't remember this particular dream. She knows what it means, even though James hasn't a clue. She's pregnant again. Hello Harry, she whispers into the dark.

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Marlene turns up on their doorstep at three am, tears streaming down her face, lip bloody and the beginnings of a bruise blooming on her cheek. Lily pulls her inside and hugs her tight. She's going to kill him. Marlene pleads with her, tells her it will be the very last time, he'll behave better tomorrow. Her eyes are bright and her fingers are digging into Lily's wrist, little half moon crescents. Lily relents, and smooths Marlene's hair from her forehead until she falls asleep. Then she sends a message to Gideon, and tells him to hunt down Derek Wilkes.

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James proposes to her one morning, shortly after graduation. They're making breakfast in the kitchen, when he drops down on one knee, in scarlet boxers. Marry me Lily. She laughs at him, tells him to stop being stupid, they don't need to get married. The second time she refuses he doesn't come home that night. The third time, he leaves on an Order mission, leaves her pregnant, although he doesn't know it; leaves without saying goodbye and she realises her life isn't worth living without him in it. When he walks in the door, she asks him to marry her.

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She wakes on her first morning as Lily Potter, and thinks that she's never seen a dawn so vibrant in her life. She lets the warmth shine upon her and she's never been as sure of anything she's done before, because she's never been this happy. She smiles as James stretches beside her, hair rumpled, eyes sleep-shuttered and she leans over and kisses him thinking mine, mine, all mine.

Good morning Mr Potter, she whispers against his lips.

Top of the morning to you, Mrs Potter.

They are together and they are young and alive, and the future is bright.

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Note: Props to those who can guess the movie I referenced! Chocolate cookies to those that liked it. And lots of Marauder love if you review and tell me what you think! Next chapter will be up tomorrow :D

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